


Among The Ruins

by astroenergy, PendulumDeath



Category: Durarara!!
Genre: Explicit Language, Implied Relationship, M/M, Mentions of non-con, Mutual Consent & Blind Fury Crossover
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-21
Updated: 2014-07-21
Packaged: 2018-02-09 20:33:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 17,485
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1996893
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/astroenergy/pseuds/astroenergy, https://archiveofourown.org/users/PendulumDeath/pseuds/PendulumDeath
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Izaya’s laughter was cut short as he tipped his head to the side, a confident smirk spreading all the way up to his eyes. He swung the knife in his hand as if he was carving into the tanned skin of his unidentified opponent, speaking the words through his always intact smirk. “Who the hell are you?”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Among The Ruins

**Author's Note:**

> We’ve noticed that Mutual Consent and Blind Fury seem to have many common readers, thus the two of us have one day decided to write this as a surprise for our readers. The fic obviously contains spoilers, the events happening right after Chapter 32 of Mutual Consent and Chapter 36 of Blind Fury. We hope you’ll like it! ^^

Izaya stood still in front of the rundown building with his hands in his pockets. He was lazily tracing a finger up and down the blade of the knife in his right pocket, feeling the raindrops land on his head and trail down his face. He could have put his hood on, it had crossed his mind at some point, long before the rain had soaked his clothes and seeped deep in his soul, but he somehow couldn't bring himself to care enough about it. Somewhere in the maze that was his mind, he could see Shinra's grey orbs gently scolding him for staying out in the rain, engulfing his whole being with that mocking affection – the self-satisfied smirk, that patronizing over-his-glasses look – and he subconsciously squeezed his switchblade's handle, as if to stab the memory dead. He craned his head back, exposing his face to the droplets of rain, just to enjoy that endless patter against his skin. The sensation made him feel stronger; more determined. Opening his eyes to stare at the window of his nemesis' bedroom – lights on – he quietly smiled to himself before taking the first step forward.

Unaware that he would soon have a guest, Shizuo was inside the bathroom taking a scorching shower. As someone who despised the cold, he was completely baffled by the love some people held for rainy days, and even though he’d given up on understanding them, he still sometimes found himself wondering why they would choose them over warm, sunny days. He ended up spending most of the day outside in the rain because of Izaya, the cold seeping into his bones as though it was some sort of insidious acid, and by the time he realized that he was freezing, his teeth were already chattering. Only when his body finally ceased its incessant shivering did he step out of the shower, the pleasant warmth inside the bathroom making him drowsy. He lazily wiped the fog off the mirror and scrubbed a hand over his face, trying to wake up enough to at least get out and get dressed before finally slumping on the couch and watching some TV.

He was in the process of drying himself up when he heard a knock on the door. His eyes narrowed for a moment and he stared at the bathroom door, trying to decide whether to go out there or to ignore the person who had nothing better to do than to bother him at such an odd hour. He sighed loudly when he heard another knock, his earlier drowsiness evaporating into thin air and being replaced by sharp clarity. He grabbed his underwear and sweatpants and put them on, already starting to feel slightly irritated. He made his way towards the door with quick, edgy strides, his eyes widening in surprise when he opened it and he saw a soaking wet Izaya openly smiling at him as though he was genuinely happy to see him. His brain shut down for a moment, and all he could do was stare in confusion at the uncanny picture before him while Izaya felt his heart flutter at the sight of his once most hated man.

The Informant let his gaze wander over the blonde's naked chest, realizing with horror and amusement that he was in fact aching to touch that robust body even though it had been used as a weapon against him, pinning him down on the single bed in the bedroom on the back of the apartment while he was being torn apart in ways he never thought possible. He didn’t even realize it, but his smile disturbed Ikebukuro’s beast, Shizuo only having ever seen that malicious, condescending smirk whenever the man would look at him. It wasn’t the smile alone; what really made him uncomfortable was the way Izaya looked at him, the evident lack of disgust in his eyes as they roamed over his body making him wonder if perhaps he had accidentally hit his head and forgotten about the abhorrence he was supposed to feel towards him. There was something else bothering him, and he finally realized what it was when he noticed the scar beneath Izaya's lower lip. For a moment, he wondered if perhaps he had been the one to accidentally injure him earlier that day, but he quickly dismissed the thought, certain there had been no blood on those poisonous, thin lips. His eyes drifted back to the unrecognizable smile, and since there was nothing about him that could ever make Izaya smile like that, he took a wild guess at the reason behind it. "Whose life did you ruin today?"

Izaya's smile froze and his eyes widened in surprise; it had been months since the blond had last been so aggressive towards him with no obvious reason. He felt the blood drain from his veins at the thought that maybe his Shizu-chan was not as interested in picking up where they'd left it as Izaya himself was. But there, in the midst of his panic, he heard Shiki's voice in his mind: _"I want you to deliver him to me,"_ and he chuckled; Shizuo was free to hate him, if that was what he wanted, but he would have to pay for it. Izaya had gone too far, had gambled too much and had lost a fair share of everything he had to allow the beast the luxury of choice: Shizuo was either his, or he was as good as dead. "None other than mine, I'm afraid."

Without thinking, Shizuo gripped the handle tighter, the metal bending beneath his fingers. "You want to come in?" he asked more out of courtesy than anything else, thinking it was the proper thing to do after barging in on him a while back, not blaming him if the man thought it was his turn to check the not-nearly-as-impressive apartment of his nemesis. He’d assumed that Izaya would decline, so Shizuo couldn't have been more surprised when the Informant nodded sheepishly and walked in, not even bothering to keep his distance, the wet fur-trimmed coat brushing against his naked shoulder as he passed by sending a shiver down his spine.

Once inside, Izaya stood about awkwardly with his hands still buried in his pockets. He was surprisingly confident, keeping his back to the blond as he looked around him at the familiar space. He took his time, tracing every detail of the room with hungry eyes: the coffee table with the ashtray on it, the couch – sweet Kasuka's couch –, the old TV set… His eyes found a spot on the wall opposite where he was standing, expecting to find a tiny black burn mark; the trace of a cigarette being crashed against the concrete. There was nothing there, and Izaya almost laughed at the thought of Shizuo cleaning it up. He could remember the heat next to his cheek, before the cigarette was crushed into the wall, right by a few raven strands of hair. So that was where his skull had been cracked open; against that seemingly harmless spot on the wall. He didn't care how inappropriate a reaction that was; he inwardly smiled at himself.

Still standing by the door, it was only after Shizuo woke up from his stupor that he finally closed it and followed him inside, Izaya's confidence completely throwing him off. "You must be insane to walk in here as though you have nothing to fear, especially after what happened," he said, not exactly thinking before speaking.

Izaya didn't bother take his eyes off the wall or turn to face the blond. Whether Shizuo understood it or not, Izaya was the one in power; he was holding Shizuo's life – no, both their lives – in his hands, and he could crash it any time he felt like it. There was nothing to fear. "I'm not afraid of you, Shizu-chan. I can ruin you without lifting a finger; why would I fear you?" There was a tinge of regret in his voice, as his mind wandered back to his meeting with Shiki a few days back, and he cursed himself for allowing it to surface, hoping that his beast hadn't noticed.

Naturally, Shizuo's body tensed, Izaya's tone bringing back memories of the condescending man who kept laughing like an idiot when he should've been begging for his life. An echo of the beast's voice from back then reminded him just how easily he had broken him, but Shizuo mercilessly crushed it down, because the monster was only a small facet of his personality spurred into existence by the rage that so often fueled him, and he refused to further tolerate its interference into his thoughts and actions. "I'd offer you a towel, but I don't think you'd want to touch anything that belongs to me," he said in an attempt to change the subject.

At the sound of those words Izaya's eyes finally moved from the wall to his own soaked clothes dripping down the living room floor. It was not a pretty sight, and to make matters worse, if he was to catch a cold now, there was a good chance no one would care. He sighed before turning around to look at the blond. "I'll take that towel, if you don't mind. It's no fun falling ill when no one cares to look after you."

It took Shizuo a few moments to snap out of his stupor, but when he did, he shook his head and went to retrieve a clean towel from his room, giving his guest a clear view of the three stab wounds on his back. Izaya's heart plummeted to his stomach at the thought that perhaps Shiki wasn't interested in waiting for his cooperation after all. He couldn't stop his mind from screaming that he'd been betrayed by his own plans, that the Awakusu-Kai had already found Shizuo, that perhaps they had other ways of capturing Ikebukuro's beast. He couldn't afford to reveal the mess he'd made to Shizuo though, so he kept his mouth shut, hoping to be given the opportunity to ask him about those scars at some other point. 

Inside the bedroom, Shizuo was rummaging though the drawers when he thought that Izaya might feel uncomfortable if his aggressor walked around half-naked, so he used the chance to grab an undershirt and put it on, all the while wondering why the man was acting so bizarrely. He was not very fond of leaving him alone in the living room for too long, so he hurried back, wanting to keep an eye on him at all times for as long as he was inside the apartment. "That wouldn't be a problem if only you had kept your big mouth shut," he finally said and handed him the towel. "You know how Shinra gets when he's angry." Not that he had ever expected a normal reaction from Izaya, but still, he was surprised to hear the Informant scoff.

"You would have liked me to keep my mouth shut, wouldn't you? Your friends deserve to know what kind of a beast you are," he tried to hide the resentment in his voice by looking away and chuckling darkly, but it was still there when he opened his mouth to speak again. "You don't deserve their love, but they still offer it to you."

The last thing Shizuo wanted was a fight, so he bit his tongue in an attempt to hold back the nasty reply he had in mind. "Shinra did what he did because that’s who he is," he added in a somewhat annoyed voice.

"He had no right to interfere in the first place."

Shizuo sighed loudly, his earlier run-in with Shinra bothering him a lot more than he wanted to admit. "He didn't ask to get involved in this mess to begin with. You should be grateful he stood by your side when no one else did."

"He couldn't have made things worse if he had meant to; your pity is the last thing I want."

Shizuo scoffed. "My pity only goes so far. You deserve none for what you did this time around."

There was a moment of silence as Izaya wondered exactly how much Shizuo knew about what had happened with Shinra. He concluded quite easily that it was none of his business anyway, so instead of replying he just shrugged, shivering slightly. The chills on his back made him realize that his drenched clothes were hanging heavily on his body, freezing him to the bone. He took his coat off with the intention of dropping it against the back of the couch, but stopped himself before he could go through with it, remembering just how precious that stupid piece of furniture was to the blond. His lips curled in a knowing smirk as he looked up at Shizuo. "Do you mind? I wouldn't want to ruin sweet Kasuka's couch."

"I'm sure he wouldn't mind, although I think it'd be best to hang this to dry." He tried his best to sound as nonchalant as possible, but on the inside, he was more than a little disturbed, because even though Izaya had made it clear that he knew everything about him, Shizuo never expected the man to know every trifling detail. 

The disturbing smirk on Izaya's face spread into a vicious smile, but he didn't say a word. He just held the coat out for the blond, making sure their fingers accidentally brushed as the piece of garment changed hands – his, bony and frozen, the other's strong and warm. Now holding only the towel in his hands, Izaya watched his hopefully tamed beast as he hanged the fur-trimmed coat at the coat hanger by the door before coming back to him. Shizuo was cold towards him, which was strange, especially after the brief conversation they'd had a few days earlier. The informant couldn't seem to fight the lurking paranoia: what if Shizuo had indeed been attacked by the Awakusu-Kai? What if Shiki was on to him? What if he had told Shizuo that Izaya himself had been the one to plant the idea of the organization getting revenge on him? Even if all that was true, panicking wasn't going to help. He refused to give in to the dread gripping his stomach and started drying himself instead, lifting his shirt with no small amount of uncertainty in order to dry his body underneath it, oblivious to the frustration his general behavior was causing his host.

A voice in the back of Shizuo’s head told him that it was a new, terrifying game, and he felt dread pool in his stomach at the thought of how it would play out. Without even realizing what he was doing, he lit up a cigarette and took a drag from it, the strong need for nicotine making his body move on its own. As soon as the smoke filled his nostrils, Izaya looked up at Shizuo to verify that he had indeed lit a cigarette. It still baffled him that he was ok with the smoke, especially after the strong physical reaction the exact same smoke had caused him back in his office during his meeting with Shiki. Shizuo caught him looking at the cigarette between his fingers and he froze, his eyes slowly moving from Izaya's unreadable expression to the cigarette in his hand. "I'm sorry. Should I put it out?"

It was unlike him to be so considerate, and Izaya couldn't stop himself from laughing. "Surprisingly enough, I only mind the smoke when other people smoke your brand of cigarettes." He probably shouldn't have offered such information as freely as he did, but it seemed to be of little importance at that point.

Shizuo's brows furrowed in confusion, and he was about to ask him how he even knew what kind of brand he smoked when he remembered that for better or for worse, they had known each other for a very long time, so the man had to have been blind to not notice such a detail. He wasn't about to complain though, so he shrugged and took another drag from it, silently watched by his archenemy.

Despite his best efforts to dry himself, Izaya was still soaked and freezing by the time the towel Shizuo had offered him was drenched with rain water. He sighed and held it out in front of Shizuo's face to make his point clear as he asked, "Could I borrow some dry clothes? I've spent too long in bed lately; I'd hate to catch a cold."

Shizuo was in the process of raising the cigarette to his lips to take another lungful of smoke, and even though it should've been warm inside the apartment, he still felt the temperature drop a few degrees. He simply stared at the man for a few long moments with a stupefied expression on his face, until he realized that he was gaping and he clicked his mouth shut. He languidly closed the small distance between them, expecting Izaya to start laughing and to tell him that he would never wear the clothes of a stupid, disgusting beast, yet the man was still standing there with his arm raised. "I'll see if I can find something that'd fit you," he said when he finally found his voice, Izaya's somewhat relaxed expression adding to the surrealism of the situation. He placed the cigarette between his lips and grabbed the wet towel, making sure not to touch the other's cold fingers this time around. He strode to the bathroom to drop it there and then walked out and back into his bedroom, closing the door behind him before allowing himself the privilege of slumping on the bed. His head dropped into his palms and he stayed like that for a bit, ash falling on the carpet from the cigarette hanging loosely between his lips while he struggled to clear his addled mind. Eventually, he found the strength to get up, and he immediately proceeded to rummage through the drawers in the hope of finding anything that would fit a skinny flea. A pair of black sweatpants seemed like the most logical choice, because the man could tie them up if they were too big for him, so he picked those up along with the matching sweatshirt. He was about to leave the room when he figured that it would be uncomfortable to put dry clothes over wet ones, so he turned back and picked up a pair of underwear as well. Once he had everything, he opened the door and went back to the living room. "They're new," he assured him as he raised his hand and waited for his guest to take them.

Izaya, however, remained perfectly still, eyeing the clothes suspiciously. “Another present from your lovely brother?” he asked through gritted teeth, his words dripping venom for reasons Shizuo couldn’t even start to imagine. He’d rather catch pneumonia than wear anything bought by that third rate impostor; even the thought of Shizuo wearing clothes bought for him by his oh-so-beloved little brother made him tremble with hatred.

Shizuo stood still as well, arm hanging in the air, trying to figure out how to answer the question. He clearly remembered his little brother telling him when they last spoke on the phone that he’d hurt Izaya, so maybe that was why the man seemed so hell-bent on not wearing the clothes if they had indeed been bought by Kasuka. "If you really must know, the answer is no," Shizuo said, and then continued when he saw Izaya's skeptical expression. "Does this look like something he'd buy?"

His expression softening, if only just a little, Izaya took the clothes in his hands and inspected them. “I guess not…” His eyes met Shizuo’s and he studied him for a moment, trying to imagine him in a shop picking out clothes for himself - the thought was so absurd that it almost gave him a headache; beasts were not supposed to wander around shopping malls. His fingers tightened in the cloth, cold like ice. Should he change right there, in front of the man who had carved the most dreadful memories into his body, or should he change in the bedroom? Shizuo’s suspicious gaze was anything but inviting, and Izaya was not prepared to face rejection just yet. Not that the bedroom was any less dreadful of a choice; he could still remember the last time he was in there, in vivid detail. And yet rejection terrified him worse. He shrugged his fear away, turning towards the bedroom and taking the first steady step. “I sometimes wonder whether you’d even breathe the air if your precious brother wasn’t breathing it as well”.

The second those words, spoken in such a low, mocking tone, left Izaya's mouth, Shizuo's shock at seeing the man take the clothes momentarily disappeared, only to be replaced by irritation at having been insulted again. His hands balled into fists and he glared at Izaya's retreating back, trying to think of a nasty reply but coming up short. He hated to admit, but he really despised the man for mocking him every chance he got, as though calling him _beast_ or any other demeaning word was not enough. “Stop buzzing around and go change alrea–wait, what are you doing…?" he asked, finally realizing that Izaya was heading straight to the bedroom.

Turning to look at him over his shoulder, Izaya rolled his eyes, trying his best to keep the mask up, for frustration was building up in his chest. “I’m going to change, just like you so politely suggested”. His lips curled into a mocking smirk, so rigid that Shizuo had to be blind not to realize that it was nothing but an old reflex. “Is that a problem?”

As much as Shizuo wanted to march over there, grab him by the scruff of his neck and throw him out the window, he restrained himself from doing so. “No, no problem,” he begrudgingly answered and then watched as Izaya disappeared into the small hallway.

The room was just as Izaya remembered it – just as it plagued his dreams for weeks. His knees went weak as he approached the open door, his eyes glued on the bed he could see right in front of him. Safe from Shizuo’s questioning look as he was standing further inside the corridor that led to the bedroom, he kept still for a few moments, his right arm extended to his side, fingertips just barely touching the wall, while his left hand held the clothes close against his body. Last time he was in this apartment, he was dragged down this corridor by the hair and he could almost feel the pain in the back of his head, where Shizuo’s strong fingers had grabbed a fistful of raven strands with enough force to pull them out if he’d wanted to. The memory cut the ground from under his feet and he had to shut his eyes to fight the rising nausea. He strode the last couple of feet inside the bedroom with his eyes shut, letting his fingers guide him forward as they slid down the wall, and only when he was inside the room with the door safely shut behind him did he allow himself to dive down to the floor. He heaved for air, but his chest felt painfully constricted and his hands trembled heavily.

Not too far from where Izaya was struggling with the painful memories of that dreadful day, Shizuo nervously paced around the living room, the thought of his enemy inside his home making him both angry and nervous. Without realizing what he was doing, he snapped the cigarette in two, the memory of Izaya cruelly playing with him mere hours before bringing back some of the bloodlust he’d felt earlier that day.

Back in the bedroom, Izaya had finally managed to control his breathing. His back was pressed against the wall opposite the bed and he forced himself to open his eyes and look at the familiar piece of furniture. As always, Shizuo’s bed was slackly made, and there were clothes recklessly tossed on top of the covers. The sight made Izaya laugh out loud and he brought the clothes he was holding in his hands – the ones he was supposed to change into – to his face, to stifle the sound; this scruffy old room had actually plagued his dreams all this time! _Such an indifferent little place!_

Turning his head towards the direction of the bedroom, Shizuo felt paranoia slowly starting to creep up on him, the thought of Izaya having ulterior motives for showing up at his doorstep making him want to throw him out even more, the only thing stopping him from doing so being the hospitality the man had shown him despite him barging into his apartment in a drunken state. Still, what if Izaya was there to go through his stuff? It wasn't like he had anything to hide, but he hated the idea of the flea touching his things.

The cloth pressed against Izaya’s face smelled of cigarettes, just like everything else in the house. The smell was something more than familiar; it was surprisingly comforting, and he caught himself getting lost in it. He pulled it rapidly off of him and threw it on the bed opposite him, getting up and starting to take his clothes off. His shirt was easy to get rid of, but thanks to the rain, his jeans were glued on his thighs, and he had to sit down on the mattress to peel them off. Once fully naked, he sat there still, staring at the window on the wall at the other side of the room. He felt anything but comfortable in that room, but he refused to allow himself the luxury of fear; he was going to face all that terrified him and he was going to get over it. He took a deep, shaky breath and let his gaze roam around the walls and the sparse furniture. Nothing had changed; it was almost as if the walls themselves were mocking him.

Craning his head towards the bedroom, Shizuo glared in its direction for a few moments before he remembered that his most important possessions – the pictures of his family – were in a safe place in the living room. Without realizing, he smiled gently, the thought of his little brother not having to go through the same hell as Izaya making his anger towards the Informant go down a bit. He took a deep breath and moved towards the couch to sit down, at the same time dropping the now ruined cigarette into the ashtray. He wasn’t sure what to do about Izaya, so he sighed loudly, picked up his phone, and called a number that he hadn't dialed in a very long time.

The voice that answered the call sounded stressed, almost as if Shinra had, by some invisible force, been forced to pick up against his will. “Hello?”

Shizuo fought to loosen his hold on the phone, the doctor's annoying voice making him want to really punch him the next time he saw him. "You know how you told me to stay away from Izaya?”

He heard the doctor sigh tiredly. “Yes, what about it?”

"What should I do if he's the one who showed up at my place?" Shizuo asked, allowing the anger he felt towards the man to seep into his voice.

There was a moment of tense silence before Shinra stuttered: “H-he’s there?”, and then the questions started falling like rain. “How is he? Does he look ok? _Have you touched him?”_

Shizuo's grip tightened around the phone again, the cracks in the plastic getting more pronounced. "What do you mean by if I _touched_ him? What do you take me for?" he asked in a low, dangerous voice.

“You seriously have the nerve to ask? I take you for what you are!” Shinra scoffed viciously.

Shizuo lowered the phone for a few moments before putting it back to his ear, Shinra’s accusation pissing him off and painfully slicing into him at the same time. _“I didn’t touch him.”_ Whether Shinra believed him or not, he honestly didn’t care. Izaya was the only one he owed an apology to, and he finally understood that after his run-in with the doctor.

In his own apartment, somewhere along the other side of Ikebukuro, Shinra took his glasses off and left them on his desk, rubbing his face with his other hand. Another fight was more than he could take. “Don’t get touchy. I don’t necessarily mean what you think – just…just _don’t_ touch him, ok? Not even if he asks you to; any kind of touch would equal hurt right now”. He could tell that Shizuo was fuming by now so he sighed again, giving up. “Is he ok?”

 _“He’s fine **,**_ all right? He’s just being his usual, creepy self, but other than that, he’s probably doing a lot better than I am, knowing that he could be going through my stuff as we speak.”

Shinra lost his voice and had to make an effort to mumble, “What do you mean?” suspicion creeping up on him.

Shizuo cracked a malicious grin, thoroughly enjoying the man’s distress. “You heard me right. He’s in _my_ bedroom right now, changing into _my_ clothes.”

“He’s…in…your bedroom?” he repeated the words to stomach it. “Why…why is he changing into your clothes?” The answer was self-evident since it was a rainy day and Shinra knew of Izaya’s habit of walking in the rain without an umbrella or a raincoat. Changing into dry clothes could just as well be an excuse though…

Shizuo had never thought about it before, but he was starting to realize that perhaps he was a bit of a sadist. “Because the pathetic excuse he has for a doctor hasn’t been checking up on him lately,” he said, hoping to make Shinra feel terrible for abandoning Izaya as though he was nothing.

As expected, Shizuo’s words felt like a blow in the chest. Shinra opened his mouth to speak, to offer some kind of retort, but couldn’t form any words. He took a deep breath and tried again, not really knowing what it was that he wanted to say before he’d actually said it. “I…you…you’ve got nerve, judging me! When it’s you who messed everything up to begin with; I’d gladly get him off your back right now, but thanks to you, he never wants to see my face again!”

“Thanks to me, huh? I must be the root of all evil.”

“Actually, you know what, Shizuo? I’m done, with both of you. You deserve each other. So go ahead and screw each other up, any way you can. Just do me a favor and, even if it’s only for tonight, treat him nice for a change.”

Shizuo actually snorted at that, and he was about to ask Shinra why he thought they deserved each other when the doctor hanged up. He glared at the device for a few long moments before he shoved the phone into the pocket of his sweatpants and got up, his mind set on dragging Izaya out if need be. He nearly stomped there, but as soon as he reached the door, he found himself unable to press the handle, the thought of running into a naked Izaya making him cringe. Feeling the beginning of a vicious headache, he scrunched his eyes and leaned against the wall near the door.

 _Everything is just the same, Izaya, nothing has changed. So, what did you come here looking for? What were you expecting?_ Izaya shook his head to hush the voice in there and turned his gaze to the bed where he was sitting. The mattress had been stained by his blood, he clearly remembered pulling the sheet off to wipe himself clean and seeing the red smears underneath. Running a trembling hand over the covers, he wondered whether Shizuo had bothered clean those stains. The thought of all that blood caused his stomach to tie up into a knot and he jumped up, grabbing the clothes Shizuo had offered him and putting them on as fast as he could, eager to leave that room with no further delay. He remembered to pick his clothes up from the floor first and take them with him, so that he could hang them to dry along with his coat, shoving one of his switchblades in the pocket of his borrowed sweatpants, just to be on the safe side, but the moment he opened the door and found the blond standing there, he dropped them to the floor again, his hands going limp as he slammed his back against the wall opposite to where Shizuo was. His fear was irrational and uncalled for – he could hear whatever part of him was still capable of rational thought arguing so – but the memories that had been dragged out into the light made him tremble uncontrollably and blood drained from his face. He shut his eyes by reflex, to fight the nausea that always followed these panic attacks, but the thought of the man who had reduced him to this standing only a couple of feet away forced them open again and he slid down the wall instead, hugging his legs painfully tight against his chest.

The sight of those terrified red eyes left Shizuo speechless, and all he could do was stand there motionless. They were the same eyes from back then, those red orbs bleeding into his being and chilling him to the core, the crimson liquid carving mercilessly into him. They made him feel like the monster from that night, the one who shoved Izaya’s face down into the ground and thrust into his much smaller and frailer body with all the cruelty in the world. A broken, terrified Izaya was exactly what he'd hoped for, but as soon as he got his wish, he wanted nothing more than to take it back, and just like back then, he couldn't stand to see the fearless Informant being reduced to the frightened thing before him. He thought Izaya was fine, he’d _looked_ fine mere minutes before, yet the trembling creature hugging his knees – the one who used to mock and taunt him as though it was the most natural thing in the world – told him otherwise. Forcing his frozen body to move, he took a step towards him, his heart getting torn to sherds when he saw the once confident man trying to make himself smaller than he already was. When he realized that he was acting like a predator closing in on its trapped prey, he instantly halted his advancement and took a step backwards, not wanting to further distress the man by getting too close. He inwardly cursed himself for his stupid mistake, his teeth gritting so hard against each other that he feared they might shatter, until he forced his jaw to relax, wishing to reassure Izaya that he wouldn't hurt him. "I made you a promise, flea, and I intend to keep it," he uttered the words in a low voice.

“Sh-shut up, S-shizuo,” his voice trembled as bad as his hands as he dug his fingers in the cloth of the sweatshirt he was wearing, bruising his skin underneath. Breaking down in front of the man who was responsible for all this horror was the last thing Izaya wanted, but once the memories had seized his mind, there was no turning back; it was merely a physical reaction, and even though his brain kept telling him that Shizuo would not hurt him, he simply couldn’t control his body. It had been the same, every day, for over four weeks already, and the only person who had been able to effectively fight the panic attacks was none other than Shinra. The thought of the doctor and everything that had happened last time Izaya had visited him sent the room spinning around him, intensifying his nausea and forcing him to slam his head back against the wall and squeeze his eyes shut. “Ha! S-such a ch…charming…image, huh? Very g-god…god-like!”

If Izaya had been a god before, he was no longer one, but Shizuo knew that such words shouldn’t be uttered, so he settled for something that would hopefully make the Informant feel like less of a failure. “If gods were perfect, we wouldn’t live in this fucked up world.”

With his eyes tightly shut, Izaya tried to regain control, taking a few deep breaths and concentrating on nothing but the air going in and out of his lungs. There was little hope this would help – it never had before – and Izaya could hear the voice in the back of his head reminding him that there was only one thing that had truly helped before; Shinra holding him throughout the paralyzing panic attacks. “C-Come…here.” He waited for a few seconds, but there was no reply, so he forced his eyes open and looked up at Shizuo who seemed almost as paralyzed as Izaya himself. There was one little word – one magic word – which would always persuade Shinra – he inwardly cursed himself for constantly coming up with that name – to drop everything he was doing and come running to Izaya’s side. It hadn’t helped him much last time he’d tried it with the beast, but that little magic word seemed to be an effective tool with pretty much all humans, so there was no harm trying again. He stared hard into the blond’s eyes and pleaded in his most honest tone: “P-please”, his voice just barely audible.

Shizuo momentarily hesitated, thinking that he might’ve heard him wrong, but that intense gaze staring into his soul told him otherwise. Slowly, he took a small step forward and then stopped, his heart plummeting the moment he saw Izaya further shrinking into the wall. Something in his head urged him to get away, away from the man hugging his knees outside of his bedroom, away from his apartment, just _away,_ but those red eyes kept him grounded on the spot as though they were somehow hypnotizing him into staying there.

Izaya opened his mouth to speak, but no sound came out, so he just unclenched his fingers from the shirt he was wearing and extended a heavily trembling hand towards Shizuo, pleading with his body now that his voice was gone.

Against his better judgment, Shizuo moved closer until he was standing right in front of him, his wildly beating heart almost stopping each time Izaya flinched. Thinking that it was a bad idea to loom over him, he sighed and sat down on the ground as well. “You’ve always known how to make me lower myself to your level,” he said softly, his tone almost sounding melancholic. The chuckle that reached Shizuo’s ears was too close to a sob, but before he could take a good look at Izaya to decide which of the two it actually was, that trembling bony hand was clenched in his undershirt and he was yanked closer to the shaking mess that was his enemy. Izaya buried his face in Shizuo’s chest and breathed heavily, filling his lungs with the man’s heavy scent. He could feel the beast flinching slightly and he struggled with the words that would hopefully keep him there. “J-just…h-hold me.”

Shizuo stood still, a million thoughts going through his head, none of which could answer the question of what to do next. Normally, Izaya would keep his guard up at all times, most likely even when he wasn’t around him, yet the flea desperately clinging to him was more transparent that Shizuo had ever seen him. His brows furrowed in confusion and he gazed at the trembling figure begging to be held, wondering why Izaya would ever want to be touched by the person who had savagely broken him to pieces. He knew that he shouldn’t have touched him at all, but he still raised a quivering hand and placed it around the man’s back, the flinch the action was met with making him wonder if perhaps it had been a bad idea. Izaya however wasn’t struggling to get away, and that convinced him to raise his other arm and enclose the smaller body, once again ignoring the flinch the action had caused. He felt an odd calmness as he pulled Izaya closer, the scent he once despised from the bottom of his heart not bothering him in the slightest. It was almost terrifying how thin the man was, Shizuo easily making out the ribs beneath his fingers just by lightly touching him. Hesitantly, he moved his hand upwards, trying his best to ignore the way in which Izaya tensed when his fingers touched his nape. He wanted, no, he _needed_ to show him that he was no longer the person who had enjoyed crushing him, so despite the nauseating feeling washing over him as the memories from that night crashed into the forefront of his mind, he gently ran his fingers through the raven locks, hoping that Izaya would understand the meaning behind the gesture, the guilt he felt for what he had done suffocating him with its intensity to the point that he could no longer speak.

If there was anything Izaya hated, that was his own weaknesses. From very early on in his life, he had made it the goal of his existence to never show weakness – never; not in the presence of other people, not even when all alone. And yet there he was, a trembling mess in his enemy’s arms. Whether he could still call Shizuo an enemy or not was a question which required serious thought, and despite the constant suffering, he hadn’t yet been able to distinguish between resentment and love – and this was certainly not the time. He expected relief to wash over him as soon as those strong arms were wrapped around him, but to claim that he had been surprised by the way his body tensed up at the touch would be a lie; his mind was in survival mode and the person gently taking him into his arms was none other than the one who had broken him in the first place. As his muscles tensed and his body flinched in a desperate attempt to break away, he just held on tight to the white undershirt Shizuo was wearing, clinging to him like his life depended on that awkward hug. Ignoring the way his mind screamed for him to get away, he focused on the warmth that engulfed him as the beast’s strong arms were slowly, hesitantly wrapped around his back. The skin to skin contact was what terrified him the most, and when Shizuo’s fingers touched the back of his neck he had to bite his lips in order to stifle the whimper that climbed up his throat. Shinra’s touch was always so much more comforting and reassuring, simply because he was someone Izaya considered _safe_ ; someone who would never hurt him. If it had been the doctor holding him, the agony would have probably subsided by now. Shizuo’s touch on the other hand bordered dangerously between comforting and terrifying, and it took all of Izaya’s strength not to push him away and leave the apartment running; besides, there were very few chances he could actually stand on his feet in this condition. So he buried himself inside the other’s warm chest instead, and concentrated on his breathing; Shinra always told him to count his breaths in order to clear his mind and allow his body to relax, and despite the fact that Izaya currently felt like the doctor was the most despicable person on Earth, this simple trick seemed to help. The violent trembling was gradually reduced to a few sparse shudders as his muscles finally relaxed, and his breathing found its normal rhythm. Instead of pulling away though, Izaya snuggled in closer to his beast, sighing pleasurably at the way the man’s fingers brushed through his wet hair, not knowing how the whole thing was making Shizuo extremely uncomfortable.

Such signs of affection were not something Ikebukuro’s beast was used to giving or receiving, but doing the opposite of what he had done in the past was his way of trying to redeem himself. At least Izaya wasn’t crying as he held him in his arms, and even though he’d stopped trembling, he had no intention of pushing him away. He would continue to hold him until the man was ready to once again call him a _beast_ and tell him how much he hated him. He cracked a small smile at the thought and continued to gently stroke the flea’s messed up head.

As the agony finally ceased and his body fully relaxed, Izaya found himself drifting away in the sweet drowsiness that always followed these episodes. It took so much effort just to control his limbs when he was drowning in that paranoid fear, that by the end of it he was always drained of energy. His fingers gave way and his hands slid down at Shizuo’s sides. The scent of bitter smoke filling his nostrils was so soothing, it almost hypnotized him. When he opened his mouth to speak, his voice came out hushed, almost a whisper.

“Shinra says they will stop, eventually.” He took a moment to play the words over in his mind and swallowed back a sigh. “Or so he said last time he was still talking to me”.

Not knowing what to say, Shizuo stayed silent, the full extent of the damage he had done finally dawning on him. He was tempted to apologize yet again, but he knew that by doing so, he would only make things worse.

Izaya’s fingers traced the seam on either side of Shizuo’s undershirt as they trailed up around the beasts’ shoulders and he chuckled bitterly.

“I never thought I’d say this, but we have something in common you and I; we burn everything we touch to the ground”. He pulled himself back a bit, not withdrawing his hands from his nemesis’ strong back but just craning his head to gaze into the man’s eyes. Shizuo’s expression was soft and it led Izaya on; he hesitantly brushed his lips against the beast’s strong jaw, determined to claim his mouth next.

It only took Shizuo a fraction of a second to react, but when he did, he tightened his fingers in the raven locks and violently pulled Izaya away from him, the startled cry the action had caused making him feel guilty. He didn’t let go though. Grabbing the frail neck with his other hand, he pushed his enemy into the wall, somewhat enraged by what the bane of his existence was trying to do. He knew that he was scaring him, the man’s nails desperately clawing at his forearm serving as proof, but no matter how sorry he felt for his past and current actions, he wanted to make him understand that he would not tolerate such games. “I knew something was wrong the moment you showed up at my doorstep,” he growled through gritted teeth, trying his hardest to ignore the wounded, terrified look in those red eyes staring at him. He then removed his fingers from the raven locks and pushed Izaya harder into the wall, the man in his grasp violently trembling. “Is _this_ your newest game? Because if it is, _I’m not playing it,”_ he snarled, the sound being followed by a violent shudder passing from Izaya’s body, through his fingers, and resonating throughout Shizuo’s entire being in the most unpleasant of ways.

Those words hurt Izaya far worse than the shudders that had yet again seized his body. The whole situation reminded him too much of the night when all hell broke loose and he couldn’t stop his mind from plummeting deep into the dark abyss. Shizuo was right there, he could feel his strong fingers clenched around his neck, he could see his eyes burning with rage once again, rage he wished to never again witness, and yet his mind was drifting away, deep into his thoughts. A game… Had it ever been a game? It had surely started as one, he had conceived of the perfect game to cheer himself up after an unexpected failure, but he could swear that it had stopped being a game the moment he’d leaned against the beast’s closed door that first night; he had truly wanted it, perhaps even more than Shizuo. There was no way he was going to admit it though. There was no way he would reveal to the seething monster before him that he ached and burned for another touch. He’d rather stab the beast to death – he’d rather cut his own heart out than admit such a compromising truth. So he forced a nasty smirk instead, the most vicious one among his wide collection of masks, and clawed his fingers on the hand pushing him against the wall.

“You enjoyed p-playing with me last t-time. I didn’t want to p-play that game, but that didn’t st-stop you.” His voice trembled despite himself, but he made up for it with the disgust he let color his voice.

Feeling as though he’d just been slapped in the face, Shizuo backed away a bit but still didn’t let go, that annoying smirk he remembered so well almost sending him back to the night in question. Everything Izaya was saying was true, and that was exactly why it hurt to be reminded of what he’d done. He’d enjoyed breaking Izaya more than he ever wanted to admit, but it hadn’t been a game, because what happened back then was simply him half losing his mind in a fit of blind rage. Using his right hand, he pushed himself off the floor and pulled Izaya up as well, the man still trying to hurt him by viciously clawing at his arm. He most likely knew that he wasn’t hurting him, but it was the sort of angry action that one did out of spite, so instead of stopping him, he allowed him to continue. The look in those red eyes was the exact same look from back then, that infuriating condescending gaze that made him want to completely destroy the Informant once and for all. He’d learned his lesson though, and no matter how much he despised Izaya, he would never again make the same mistake again. Slowly, he removed his hand from around his nemesis’ neck, wincing when he saw how red the skin was where his fingers had been tightly wrapped around it. Izaya was still smirking at him, and the smirk widened, almost turning maniacal when he backed away a bit and gave him some room to breathe. Slowly, he ran a shaky hand through his hair, now more than ever itching for a cigarette. “That wasn’t a game… you know that. It was punishment for everything you’ve done to me over the years.”

 _“I’m not done playing yet” -_ Izaya could remember the beast’s words clearly and his brow furrowed in confusion. He could easily grasp the meaning of punishment though; he had known even during the torture he’d been subjected to that night that he was being punished – for the lies and the games, for treating Shizuo like a toy when the blonde had so generously accepted him in his life. He pulled his switchblade out and flicked it open, but his hand trembled so bad that he had to clench his fingers around the handle and keep his arm close to his body in order to steady it, and still the knife was shaking just inches from his own chest. “Fit-t-ting punishment, don’t you think? Ha! Y-you…should have just k-killed me, instead. But I guess… it wouldn’t have been as s-sati…sfying”. He silently cursed himself for the uncontrollable shaking and the stuttering, but instead of giving up he swung his switchblade in the air, his smirk falling into a frown. “I wo-won’t give you an-other chance, beast, so make the be-best of what I’m offering. Careful; I d-didn’t come all the way to I-Ikebukuro just so you could t-turn me down!”

Despite his best efforts to stay calm, Shizuo still ended up banging his fist into the wall behind him, the sound of it cracking too loud in his ears. Immediately, Izaya instinctively pushed himself further into the opposite wall, and Shizuo couldn’t help but admire how the man could still look so defiant in his situation. “You’re insane,” he ground out the words as soon as he was able to form words again. “That wasn’t a fitting punishment, it was torture, and you _didn’t_ deserve it!” He saw Izaya’s eyes widen in surprise, but before the man could open his mouth and speak nonsense again, he hurried to continue. “I almost killed you.” He hated how meek his voice sounded, but he could barely speak when the guilt of what he had done was weighing so heavily on his conscience. He grabbed his head, flashbacks of Izaya’s broken body making him dizzy. His fingers tightened into the still slightly wet locks, and he felt the ground shift beneath him when he was bombarded by some of the loathsome things he’d felt that night, as well as how satisfying it had been to punish Izaya for all the bad things the man did to him over the years. Swallowing the lump in his throat, he forced himself to unclench his own fingers before he raised his head and looked Izaya straight in the eyes, hoping that he would be able to make him understand just how much he regretted what he’d done. “Why would you ever tell me to take advantage of you again?” His tone was sorrowful, defeated, a perfect representation of how he felt on the inside. “Killing you really would’ve been more merciful, because leaving you to bleed to death in that dirty alley was too cruel. I didn’t think that you… I thought… I thought you’d be ok!” He waited for Izaya to say something, anything, but the man seemed to be looking at him as though he was insane. “Are you testing me? Is that what this is? I promised that I would never touch you again, and I won’t, I swear, so please stop hurting yourself.”

 _What alley?_ Izaya had gone limp; even the shaking had finally stopped, leaving him dazed. His eyes scrutinized the man standing before him; the bleached hair, the strong arms, the honey-brown eyes… Actually, those eyes looked foreign; the way they looked at him was far from anything he’d ever before witnessed on that face. The apartment was the same, the man opposite him looked the same and yet something was off. His beast would have never treated him this way, and what was that about promising to never touch him again? Shizu-chan had never made such a promise – Izaya would have never accepted it anyway.

_Dirty alley…_

The absurdity of the situation made him laugh out loud, and he raised his switchblade in a now steady grip, claiming the space between him and the beast watching him. It was insane, but he had the feeling that the man opposite him was not the one he’d come to meet. The thought bordered dangerously on schizophrenic, but in a city where headless riders and girls possessed by some ancient blade roamed the streets, nothing was impossible. His laughter was cut short as he tipped his head to the side, a confident smirk spreading all the way up to his eyes now that he felt certain the man he was facing was not the one he’d been suffering for all this time. His confidence finally restored, he swung the knife in his hand as if he was carving into the tanned skin of his unidentified opponent, speaking his words through his always intact smirk. “Who the hell are you?”

Shizuo watched in disbelief as Izaya’s attitude did a hundred and eighty degrees turn in the span of less than a minute, the terrified Informant gone and replaced by the same confident Izaya who’d shown up at his doorstep earlier that night. For a moment, the thought that he had banged Izaya’s head too hard into the wall made his eyes widen in horror, but he quickly dismissed it when he went over their earlier conversation. “Hey, Izaya…” he said softly as he fought to relax even though he had a switchblade poised in his direction, “could you please stop playing these games already and just… just go home? You must be tired too, right? You said it yourself, it was the first chase we had in over three months. I don’t want to fight again today, I can’t… I just _don’t_ want to fight anymore…”

Izaya raised an eyebrow but otherwise remained perfectly still. “I don’t know who you think you’re talking to, but Shizu-chan and I haven’t had a chase in over a year – except for the ones in bed, of course, but I get the feeling this is not the type of chase you’re talking about!” he flashed a wide grin, his eyes gleaming with mischief. “Besides, I’m not at all tired. As a matter of fact, I must confess I’ve missed a good fight; no one can make my blood thrum the way Ikebukuro’s monster does.”

“WAIT!” Shizuo nearly pleaded when he sensed Izaya’s intention to attack. “Just wait a second!” Slowly, he started backing away towards the living room, hoping that he could avoid a fight. “What bed? There was never any bed involved, just cold, wet concrete. As for the chases, the one today might not have been like our old ones, but I’m sure that what I did to you… that time… was a little under four months ago. I know I’ve banged your head pretty hard that night, but I’ve never heard of delayed memory loss,” he said and raised his arms in a placating gesture. “Maybe we should call Shinra.”

Even the sound of the doctor’s name sent Izaya’s blood boiling, but other than growling “ _leave Shinra out of this”,_ he managed to remain perfectly in control, his mischievous grin plastered across his face like the mask it was. His brain tried to process the situation in order to come up with a plausible explanation to what he was experiencing, but he couldn’t seem to come up with anything satisfying. _A parallel universe, maybe,_ he thought to himself. It was obvious that this monster knew who Izaya was, and it was also more than clear that, in whichever universe he came from, the two of them had been involved in a situation not far from what he had suffered in Shizuo’s hands. The thought was wickedly amusing. “Just as idiotic as the original; I must say, it’s almost charming! There was no alley and no cold, wet concrete, you moron! _My_ Shizu-chan only ever laid me down on his bed – where he’d fucked me hundreds of times before! But please, do tell me about what you did to this other me – in detail, if you don’t mind!” his smile sharp around the edges.

Shizuo slowly lowered his hands and stared at Izaya as though he was insane. If he’d fucked him hundreds of times before, he would’ve _remembered,_ but he didn’t, so the crazy one between the two of them was obviously Izaya. Why would he ever invite him into his apartment and fuck him in his own bed? No. _NO!_ Just the mere thought of what Izaya was suggesting made him sneer, and while ignoring the switchblade pointed at him, he retrieved the cigarette pack and the lighter from his pockets and lit one up. With the cigarette now hanging loosely between his lips, he glared at his nemesis. “Don’t confuse your dreams with reality, you fucked up flea.”

Izaya burst into thoroughly entertained laughter at the thought that this foreign beast before him had the nerve to assume that what he’d just said was nothing more than wishful thinking, but he refrained from interrupting him. Instead, he followed him closely around the small space between the bedroom and the living room with his switchblade always pointing at him.

“This is the first time you’ve set foot in my apartment, and there is no way in hell I’d ever fuck you in my bed… oh… I see what this is. You just want me to admit that I’m a monster, right?”

Izaya cocked his head to the side and studied him for a moment; he could practically smell the guilt on him. He had no idea why the man would want to admit being a monster, but if that was his wish, he had no reason to stop him. “Are you projecting your own wish on me? Is that what this is? I want to know everything that you did to me – monstrous or not. Go ahead, entertain me!”

“Fine! I’ll play this game of yours.” Taking a drag from the cigarette, he glared at the insect, truly hating him for making him relive that night. “You just _had_ to show up in Ikebukuro when I was already close to losing it.” Feeling thoroughly annoyed, he moved to the living room and started pacing around, not at all worried about the blade pointed in his direction. “Seriously, how dumb can you be to taunt me after getting caught?”

“ _I_ got caught?!” Izaya’s voice was tinted with honest surprise, which – he had no doubt – would most likely be interpreted by the beast as a taunt. Shizuo’s response was a nasty glare shot his way.

“One simple apology and I would’ve let you go, but you just had to laugh in my face, didn’t you?” Snarling, he stopped in his tracks, snapped the cigarette in two, and glowered at Izaya again. “I stabbed you for your shitty attitude, and then I fucked you to give you a lesson. There, I admit it, I’m a monster. Was this what you wanted to hear, hah? Well, you heard it; now get the fuck out of my house,” he ordered as he raised his hand and pointed a finger in the direction of the door.

Izaya’s brain went into overdrive, trying to process the new information. He would have laughed out loud, had the shock let him. _He_ had got caught! _He_ had been raped by this stupid beast who seemed to hate him more than ever. _He_ had even been stabbed! “Was it one of my own switchblades that you used to stab me?”

“Dumb fucking question,” he finally said and lit up another cigarette. “It’s not like I go around carrying switchblades, so of course it was your own goddamn switchblade! You know that!”

The informant’s face was split in two by a vicious grin as he stalked forward. “You _are_ a monster; so much more than my Shizu-chan. You used my own knife to stab me? You fucked me even though you hate me? Why? What lesson was it that you were trying to teach me?” he went on before Shizuo could open his mouth to speak. “No, don’t bother answer that! There’s something else I’d like you to tell me. How did it feel?” He paced around the beast menacingly as he talked, his flickblade switching from hand to hand every once in a while. “Did you enjoy it? Not the stabbing, of course – I have no doubt you enjoyed that! – the rape. Did it turn you on, to break me that way? Did you come while fucking me?”

Despite trying his best to stay calm, Shizuo still let a growl slip past his lips. “What’s the point of you asking me questions you already know the answer to?”

“Humor me!”

Frowning at him, Shizuo fought to not flip the TV along with the table, and he feared that if Izaya didn’t stop soon, he would have to use physical strength to kick him out, and that was something he wanted to avoid at any cost. Cursing under his breath, he ran a shaky hand through his hair and looked away, hoping that Izaya would understand that he no longer wished to play his messed up game.

“Ha! You did, didn’t you?! A HAHAHAHAHA! You sick pervert! You know, I never had the honor of getting stabbed by my beast, he only gave me this”, he pressed the blade of his knife flat against the scar underneath his lower lip, “as a…token of his love. But at least he had the decency to _not_ have an orgasm while he was teaching me a lesson!” he dragged the words out vehemently and then pointed his switchblade at Shizuo again. “We’ve fucked more times than you’ve chased me around Ikebukuro in the past year. I can still feel him – you! – coming deep inside me, I know your stupid cum-face better than I know mine, I know what turns you on and what makes you come – you’ve licked me in places you wouldn’t even imagine!”

Shizuo’s anger burst all at once, and he kicked the table along with the TV straight into the wall separating the kitchen from the living room. “SHUT THE FUCK UP!” he roared, his whole body shaking in rage. Izaya had stopped pacing around and had assumed a defensive position not far from where he was standing, and Shizuo had to admit that he had never wanted to wring that neck as much as he wanted right at that moment. “You saw my _what?_ My _cum-face?_ How the fuck did you achieve that feat when your face was shoved into the ground, hah? And what was that shit about me licking you where? In what fucking universe did that happen, ‘cause it didn’t in this one. What is this, some reverse psychology crap? You make it sound like you’ve enjoyed getting fucked by me, when I clearly remember you complaining how disgusting it’d felt to have my cum run down your blood-stained thighs. Those were _your_ words!” His eyes fell on the scar beneath Izaya’s lower lip and he stared for a few long moments. “I did NOT do that!” he said and pointed at it.

Pleased at himself for managing to both disgust and enrage the beast with his words, Izaya smirked viciously, feeling more conscious of the scar than he’d felt in a while. “No, _you_ didn’t do this. Your brain is too slow to process the information, so let me make it simple; I don’t know who the hell you are or where you came from, but you are not the man I came here to see. _My_ Shizu-chan would never brutalize me in the back of some dirty alley and leave me there to bleed to death”, he purposefully ignored the voice in the back of his head that reminded him that his Shizu-chan had also left him to bleed to death. “ _My_ Shizu-chan is gentle in bed; he likes to undress me himself and always takes care to not hurt me with that ridiculous strength of his. _My_ Shizu-chan is _mine,_ and would never hurt me just for fun. _You_ on the other hand are a degenerate beast who gets off on others’ pain – I can’t believe a lowlife like you actually caught me! You say it’s been four months since that happened and I can’t help but wonder why you still roam the streets, why hasn’t this other me crashed you to the ground yet? You think _I_ would have let you get away with it? You think _I_ would have let you plunge my own blade in my thigh and then walk away breathing?”

Tilting his head, Shizuo simply stared at Izaya for a while, trying to figure out what was going on. Even he had to admit that the scar beneath the man’s lower lip was old, and such a scar had not been on that irritating face earlier that day. Besides, the Izaya before him seemed genuinely surprised that he was still breathing, and no matter how good of an actor the pest was, he wasn’t _that_ good. Slowly, he walked towards the coffee table to snub out the remainder of the cigarette into the ashtray, Izaya backing away until their positions in the room were reversed. “You know what? How about _you_ humor me this time around?” he said as he turned around and kept flexing his fingers. “Take your pants off, _now!”_

Izaya raised an eyebrow, struggling to fight the dread that had started pooling in his stomach at the sound of those words. Shizuo might have brutally hurt him, but there was no doubt that he hadn’t enjoyed it in the least. That was punishment for a very particular crime and Izaya could almost understand its logic. On the contrary, the beast opposite him had apparently enjoyed breaking his enemy in the most loathsome way, and Izaya was not interested in reliving the horror of being reduced to a victim. “Don’t get me wrong, but just because you share the same features with my favorite toy doesn’t mean I’ll surrender myself to you just like that.”

“It’s not like that, you _idiot,”_ he ground out the words, “I just want to see if you have a stab wound on your left leg. I suggest you do it yourself before I do it for you. There’s only so much bullshit I can take from you in one night.”

His switchblade raised at eye level, legs parted and knees slightly bent to better balance himself, back hunched like a cat ready to attack, Izaya was prepared for the fight. Shizuo had always been stronger than him, but that had never stopped him before. “I do not strip for monsters. You can take my word for it or you can taste my knife if you like, whatever you prefer.”

Shizuo raised his hands and popped his knuckles as he took a step towards his opponent. “The other Izaya – if you really are not him – lost that night because he was trapped, and guess what? So are you!” He attacked without hesitation, his fist flying past Izaya’s head before he felt something sharp slice his side. He immediately turned around and backed away, barely avoiding a cut to the chest. Realizing that Izaya might try to make a run for the door, he kicked the TV towards it, the man effortlessly jumping over it. “You know, that little knife of yours didn’t help you back then.”

As the TV crashed against the shut door, Izaya glanced over his shoulder to the now blocked entrance to the apartment. He gritted his teeth together, realizing that he was indeed trapped, and looked back at the beast. The sight of the man’s now bloodied undershirt boosted his morale and he scoffed at his enemy. “Your stupid strength has never helped you before – I was always faster and smarter than you, beast!”

Shizuo sneered, completely ignoring the blood tainting his clothes. “My stupid strength is the reason you lost in the first place!” he said and carefully watched his nemesis so that he could jump on him the moment he made a run for the exit. The insect was fast, but not fast enough to get past the broken TV and the closed door before he could get his hands on him. The man was dangerous though, so he had to be careful, because he knew that Izaya would have no problem in thrusting that blade into his heart if given the opportunity. “Your intelligence didn’t help you back then, and it won’t help you now either,” he said in an almost condescending tone, eyes momentarily flickering down to the switchblade before moving up again.

“You got lucky once, that’s all.”

“What happened back then had nothing to do with luck,” Shizuo hissed through clenched teeth, his body almost thrumming with fury. If anything, that had been the unluckiest day of his life.

The door was no longer an option – he would waste too much time trying to unblock the way and that could result in him getting caught – so Izaya racked his brain to come up with another way out. The only alternative he could come up with was one of the kitchen windows; the apartment wasn’t too high up and there was another building very close by on that side, so perhaps he could try and climb down the wall. It was a slim chance but it was still better than getting caught by this monster. There was only one problem; Shizuo was standing right between him and the kitchen. His best chance would be to get Shizuo to attack first so they could change positions again; with the monster running towards him, Izaya could dash to the kitchen and jump off the window. So all he had to do was provoke him a bit more. “Perhaps the Izaya in your universe is weaker; that would explain how he got caught in the first place” he smirked wildly, hoping to aggravate the stupid beast in order to escape him.

Shizuo’s eyes narrowed into murderous slits, the temptation to break the man’s bones growing stronger by the second. “The Izaya I _know_ is not–“

“Or maybe you just wanted it too badly”, seeing Shizuo’s eyebrow twitch, he chuckled. “Did I hit a nerve, beast? You had an orgasm while fucking your archenemy, so you clearly enjoyed yourself, don’t deny it. I bet it gave you great pleasure thrusting yourself inside that torn and bleeding body.” His own words made his stomach turn, but he forced himself to keep up the nasty smirk and the self-complacent stance.

Shizuo’s heart bled at the memory. “You’re wrong. I had no intention of doing anything like that to you when I was chasing you through Ikebukuro. It just happened. But you’re right about something…” He took a step forward, knowing that the closer he was to Izaya, the easier he could catch him. _“I enjoyed it.”_ As expected, those red eyes burned brighter with hatred, and Shizuo used that moment to make his move.

The moment he darted towards him, Izaya stooped with his knife raised in front of him. He went straight for his enemy’s gut and managed a pretty deep gash, the wound distracting Shizuo enough for Izaya to bounce forward and make a run for the kitchen. He heard the beast roar behind him and he almost giggled at the thought of how easy it had been to escape him, before feeling a violent tug on his ankle and falling flat on his face. He was so startled he barely had the time to stop the fall with his arms and ended up colliding with the floor full force. His face went instantly numb and his eyesight blacked out for a few moments which however felt too long to him. He groaned, blindly feeling the surface around him for his switchblade, which had slid off his fingers with the fall, but couldn’t seem to find it.

Shizuo groaned, the cut on his stomach bleeding a lot more than he thought it would. He should’ve known that Izaya was no easy prey, but he had underestimated the man and now he was bleeding all over his own floor. Enraged, he tightened his hold around Izaya’s ankle – but not hard enough to break any bones – until he heard a few pained noises slip past those poisonous bloody lips. The insect was still desperately feeling the surface for the weapon, and when Shizuo finally spotted it not far from where he was lying on the floor, he pushed himself up and got to it first. “You lookin’ for this?” he taunted and bent down to grab him, not expecting to get kicked in the head the next moment, the crunching noise he heard when Izaya’s foot made contact with his face a clear indication that his nose had been broken. Momentarily distracted, he put the switchblade down and raised his hands to touch his face, blood flowing freely past his lips and down his chin.

Izaya used the opportunity to pull himself up, leaning against the kitchen counter for support. His eyesight was still blurred, his whole face throbbing with pain and he could taste the blood from the cut on his lips. Getting out of there alive was the only thought in his mind though, so he ignored the fear that made his knees tremble and tried to reach for the switchblade Shizuo had left on the counter, only to hear the man roar in rage right before his head was viciously banged against the hard surface. His eyes fluttered shut and he had to latch his fingers to the edge of the counter to keep himself up. The world had gone black and silent around him, and for a moment he feared he would actually black out, but the thought of being helpless in the beast’s hands terrified him enough to stand up on his feet again even though he was incapable of fighting back.

“You should’ve just done as you were told,” Shizuo barked in an irritated voice just before he wrapped his hand around a thin arm and started dragging a boneless Izaya towards the living room. Once there, he violently threw him into the corner between the couch and the wall opposite to the small hallway, wanting to make sure that his ‘guest’ could not get into the kitchen again. Thoroughly annoyed, he grabbed his broken nose with his left hand and set it back in to place. “This is your last chance,” he warned as he raised the hand holding the bloody switchblade. “Show me your thigh.”

Tucked in the corner, very much like that night in Shizuo’s bedroom, Izaya felt the panic seize him again. He’d been caught; he’d been _stupid_ and _weak_ enough to get caught. He fought the paralyzing shudders that were threatening to possess his body once again and looked up at the monster in front of him, feeling his lips and his forehead with trembling fingers. There was blood on his face and that switchblade raised in front of him, looked, for the very first time to Izaya’s eyes, like an actual weapon. There was no doubt that he was terrified at the prospect of being stabbed and tortured by this man whom he didn’t know at all, but he was certainly not going to show it. The left corner of his lips curled up into a bloody smirk as he pushed himself off the floor and on his feet, ready to make a run for the door as soon as the beast took a step towards him – a desperate plan, no doubt doomed to fail. “Does it turn you on to watch me bleed like this?”

Without another word, Shizuo was upon him, Izaya only managing to take a few steps before he caught him and threw him into the small hallway leading to the bedroom. “I’m done playing,” he told him just before he pinned him to the wall, grabbed the waistband of the black sweatpants and tugged them down, his eyes going wide the moment he saw there was no stab wound there. For a moment he was struck by shock, until he came back to his senses and released the gasping and shuddering _not-Izaya_ thing before him, the man sliding down the wall, pulling his pants back on and making himself as small as he could.

Izaya was overwhelmed by despair. There was no escaping the beast now, the space was too small for him to try and slip away, he was really trapped in the narrow hallway. His breath caught in his throat and he could feel the sweat accumulate on the back of his neck. Whatever this beast was going to do to him, he just hoped it would be over soon; he could take the pain but he just couldn’t put up with the fear. If he could just pretend, if he could just play it cool even when trapped like a mouse, perhaps he could still preserve some kind of control over the situation. But no words would come out of his mouth and holding still required all of his strength as he clenched his muscles in order to not tremble like a scared animal.

Shizuo stared in wordless dismay at the injured creature leaning against the wall who _was_ Izaya, but at the same time _wasn’t._ What was more disturbing than meeting another version of the insect was the knowledge of another Heiwajima Shizuo doing the exact same thing to another Orihara Izaya. _A monster through and through,_ he thought bitterly. It seemed they were doomed to destroy each other even when they were supposedly sleeping together. “You’re pathetic,” he said in a disgusted tone.

With great effort, Izaya managed a defiant chuckle. “Forgive me for being human; we can’t all be monsters like you! You won a fight – _one_ fight. That doesn’t make me pathetic. I’ve effortlessly ruined your life far too many times for this to even count as a victory!”

“Move,” Shizuo ordered, snapping his head in the direction of the bedroom. Izaya’s eyes followed the gesture wide from terror; he was _not_ going through _that_ again. Seeing him shaking his head and refusing to comply, Shizuo grabbed the raven locks and forcefully dragged him inside, ignoring the struggles and the vicious hits to his bleeding stomach. He tried to grab one of the flailing arms but Izaya bit him, and he had no choice but to harshly pull on the black hair before he roughly shoved him away, the strong impact with the bed making Izaya grunt in pain.

As he crumbled to the floor, it all came rushing back to him; the pain, the guilt, the grief. His body was shaking again, both from the pain and the panic that had reemerged. His mind kept screaming at him to get out, at any cost, _just fight your way out of here,_ for he simply couldn’t go through the humiliation and the pain again, he couldn’t allow himself to break apart in front of this man who so clearly hated him, he couldn’t stand the thought of being torn to pieces yet again, in the same room, on the same bed. But he simply couldn’t move; his limbs were paralyzed. He raised his head to look at the man who had managed to beat him just like that and silently hoped that whatever was going to happen, he’d be able to take it without a word.

“Is this where he fucked you hundreds of times before, except for that one time when he _raped_ you? No, don’t answer that, because I already know.” He backed away until he was blocking the door, wanting to make sure the fake Izaya would not try to escape again. “You want him even after he hurt you.”

It took Izaya a few moments to realize he was gaping and to click his mouth shut. More talk was not what he had been bracing himself for. He swallowed hard, and grabbing the bed’s footboard, he cautiously pulled himself up, his eyes always watching the beast to make sure he wouldn’t attack. Once standing, he backed away until his back was pressed against the wall, a safe distance between him and Ikebukuro’s monster. The bed was on his right and his eyes kept drifting towards it, wondering what it would feel like if he still hated the man who had once been his archenemy - wondering what it would feel like for this other Izaya to be humiliated and broken in such a way by the man he despised. “I hurt him first” he only looked up after he’d said it, but this other Shizuo didn’t seem to appreciate the confession much. He let his head fall back against the wall and smiled tiredly.  “It’s just a game, you see. I hurt you and you hurt me… but you never cared much for games, unfortunately.” It didn’t seem like the beast was going to attack him and so his body relaxed, casually leaning against the wall. Words couldn’t hurt him anyway, so there was no harm in continuing this conversation. “It’s not a matter of whether I want him or not – even though I _do_ want him. He’s mine, that’s all.”

Now that Izaya was no longer trying to attack him, Shizuo pocketed the bloody switchblade, fished out the lighter and the slightly crumpled pack and lit up another cigarette. He knew that it made no sense, but he felt anger at this other Izaya for mocking his flea. “ _My_ Izaya doesn’t want me because he really _hates_ me,” he said with a grin on his face. “He hates me so much that he can barely stop himself from cutting open my chest and rip out my still beating heart. He is _not_ weak. He laughed in my face even after I stabbed him in the leg. He kept mocking me even as I was viciously fucking him into the ground, tearing him apart and breaking him to pieces. Oh, he cried, but he didn’t beg, not even once.” With his cigarette now hanging loosely between his lips, he leaned against the door’s frame and watched this other version of Izaya gazing at the bed with a strange look in his eyes. “You begged, didn’t you?”

“Sure I did” he replied without thinking. “You think I’m weak because I begged?” chuckling humorlessly he looked back at Shizuo again. “Do you have any idea how painful it is, to get forced like this by a man who can hardly control himself on a good day? You don’t know anything! I cried and I begged, but none of that stopped him. Quite the contrary, it just spurred him on; _another game,_ is what he must have thought.”

Shizuo’s hand froze in mid-air as he was about to take another lungful a smoke, Izaya’s soul-cleaving words making him flinch. His perception on pain was different than everyone else’s, but he understood that it must’ve been pure torture for Izaya to be violently taken by a beast with inhuman strength. His Izaya’s tears had spurred him on as well, and yet he couldn’t understand how he’d failed to make him beg while the other Shizuo had succeeded. Lowering his hand, he watched the scrawny insect for a few moments, until he felt the blood freeze in his veins when he finally understood why this Izaya was much more damaged than the one he knew. Shizuo had always hated himself, for breaking things, for ruining people’s lives, for losing control, and yet the abhorrence he felt for the other version of himself made his body quake with fury. “I thought _I_ was bad, but the other _me_ is so much worse.” _His_ Izaya loathed him, but the one before him seemed to love Ikebukuro’s beast, so he could only imagine how betrayed he must’ve felt to get hurt in such a way. “I fucked _my_ flea because I _hate_ him. I wanted him to understand that if he keeps fucking with people, one day he will get fucked in return. Why did _your_ Shizuo do it… because he _loves_ you?” he asked through clenched teeth, wishing the other him was there as well so that he could rip him apart limb from limb.

Izaya felt that very familiar feeling tug at his heart again; grief. He could not tell whether Shizuo loved him or not – he wouldn’t dare jump to conclusions, especially not after what had happened with Shinra – but he was definitely desperate for him to love him back…and it was that four-letter word that changed everything. “ _If he keeps fucking with people, one day he will get fucked in return…_ ” he repeated the phrase in a haze. “I guess he must have thought the same thing” his eyes found Shizuo’s and he felt he could read clear disgust in them – maybe even pity. “It was an unfortunate moment; Shizu-chan never wanted to hurt me.” The words came out strained, but he urged himself to believe them anyway.

“You’re delusional. Of course he wanted to hurt you! I’ve _felt_ your terror as I held you in my arms. You’re terrified of me, aren't you? And yet you want me… well, the other me. You want the man who humiliated you, the man who broke you to pieces and taught you what it means to be powerless.”

Self-hatred was Ikebukuro’s monster’s most prevalent characteristic. Izaya smiled at himself, tilting his head to the side and studying the man opposite him. “You’re not so different after all. You actually hate _him_ more than you hate me!” The thought was so absurd it was actually amusing, and as he watched Shizuo flinch at his words, he chuckled, folding his arms in front of his chest. “Yes, I want to get fucked by the man who tore me apart – did you ever expect anything better from the two of us? We are the same, you and I; monsters, not human yet doomed to live among them, worthless of their love, alone, feared and pitied. I _hate_ myself for bringing out people’s pity, I can’t stand it. _He_ doesn’t pity me. _He_ doesn’t fear me. He would break every bone in my body without a second thought if he felt I deserved it and I would slice him into pieces if it amused me.”

 _They’re both insane,_ Shizuo thought as he watched Izaya push himself off the wall and take a couple of steps towards the window before bringing a hand up to wipe the blood off his face.

“I’m _not_ scared of him. That’s just an involuntary physical reaction.” With his back now pressing against the cold glass, he looked up at the man opposite him; the resemblance was almost paralyzing. “I hadn’t realized until that night, but I’ve wanted you – him – since the first moment I laid eyes on him. He’s _mine._ And I am his. I don’t care if he wants me or not; I’m his anyhow.”

Shizuo slowly shook his head, feeling highly disturbed by what he was hearing. “I can’t believe you’re pathetic enough to want him after he broke you,” he hissed, unable to comprehend how this Izaya could be so different to the one he knew.

The words felt like a punch in the stomach, but after the first shock wore off, Izaya burst into laughter. “ _You_ call _me_ pathetic?! You fucked a man you despise, how can you even live with yourself? You wanted to break him? Well congratulations, you made it. He’ll never be able to even look at himself in the mirror without seeing your filth on his body – he’ll never be able to _be_ with another person without feeling you ravaging his insides. Well done, you’re a true monster! If that was your goal, you have accomplished it! You think you’re better than Shizu-chan because you did what you did out of hatred? You almost brag about the fact that you hate each other! Well done to both of you!” He could hear the hum of his rising blood pressure as the anger boiled inside him. He shook his head emphatically, wondering what on Earth was wrong with this fucked up universe where those two were happy to hate each other. “The world hates us both, you know! They would be better off without us. He hurts me and I hurt him, but that’s fine. The rest of the world doesn’t care to touch us, so why would I not want him? Does anyone want you? Is there anyone in the world you’d dare touch without dreading that you’d break them apart? He can break me any way he likes; I can take it. I can play him any way I like, for my games can’t touch him. You are alone in this miserable apartment and your Izaya is alone in more space than he could ever accommodate and you’re happy hating each other! And you call me pathetic!”

The remainder of the cigarette slipped between Shizuo’s fingers, and he slowly slid down the door’s frame until he was sitting on the floor with his head bowed and his arms resting on his knees. The fake Izaya was right, no one wanted him, and even though he sometimes found himself wanting someone, no person in their right mind dared to get close to him. The smallest of things set him off, so how could anyone ever trust him to not hurt them? Izaya on the other hand still challenged and mocked him even though he feared him, so he could understand why the other versions of the two of them would seek comfort in each other’s arms. His own universe was however different, and he doubted that his Izaya would ever forgive him, let alone want to be with him. It was pointless to even think about it, especially when his actions had been driven by hatred and not by love or desire. In the end, he got exactly what he wanted, an Izaya that would never be able to forget, and even though the one before him was not the same, it was still painful to even look at him, now more than ever after knowing just how much he’d broken him. “You know what he told me? That I don’t have the right to die until he’s done punishing me,” he revealed in a trembling voice. “Death would be sweet relief, and he _knows_ that.” He felt a shiver run down his spine and he balled his hands into fists. “You can’t even imagine how much I regret what I’ve done to him, to _you._ ” Raising his head, he looked him straight in the eyes, and when he saw that Izaya stayed quiet, he continued. “It was so stupid… I don’t know why I lost it like that.” Without thinking, he raised a bloody hand and softly tugged at his hair. “I was angry before I even saw him walk down the street and threw that vending machine at him! You know what he told me not even a week ago? He said that I only caught him because he hit his head. Can you imagine that? _So stupid!”_

Izaya’s lips curled up into a self-complacent smirk and he folded his arms in front of his chest again. “That explains it; there’s no way you could ever catch me otherwise!” It made no difference that this other Shizuo was talking about another Izaya; the Izaya in the room almost huffed in relief at the knowledge that he’d only got caught by mistake. There was some kind of sadistic pleasure in watching the beast beat himself over something he’d done to him – to this other version of him – and Izaya couldn’t deny that he was hoping his Shizuo was just as tortured by guilt. He watched this other Shizuo push himself off the floor, more blood pouring out of his wounds and tainting his sweatpants.

“I don’t understand how this is possible… _this,_ whatever this is, and honestly, I don’t even care; it’s too much of a headache to even think about it,” Shizuo admitted just before he scrubbed a hand over his face. “But while you’re a lot like the Izaya I know, you’re also different. He despises me. I can tell by the way he looks at me that he would never allow me to touch him.” Chuckling darkly, he reclined against the wall opposite to the window. “What he wants is my head on a platter.” His eyes fell upon Izaya’s scar and he tried to imagine what it’d be like to kiss those lips. Somehow, somewhere, the two of them were together, yet a willing Izaya was such a ludicrous thought that he couldn’t stop himself from laughing out loud.

“Does his hatred amuse you so much?” The laughter that reached Izaya’s ears sounded broken, and yet Shizuo’s expression was carefree and almost nostalgic. Izaya had spent most of his life trying to ruin Ikebukuro’s monster, but to claim that he had ever truly hated the man would be a lie. Not that he could claim to have loved him from the first moment – he was too much of a cynic to believe that was even possible – but he had been drawn by him from day one, before they’d even exchanged those few words. “I still remember the first time I saw you, you know.” He let his head fall back against the window and chuckled nostalgically as he reminisced on that day. “I knew right at that moment that we’d hurt each other in every way possible, but I never thought we’d get to this.”

“I attacked you first that day on the football field, while you simply defended yourself. I’ve always blamed him – you – for everything that happened afterwards, but I now find myself wondering if things would’ve gone differently if I hadn’t tried to punch you. But it doesn’t matter anymore… does it? Of all the possible outcomes, I never thought I’d end up taking you against your will. You say that you’ve wanted him from the first moment you laid eyes on him, but I don’t think that my Izaya feels the same way about me. He despises me, and he’d always made sure I knew it. To answer your question, no, his hatred doesn’t amuse me. I’d give anything to go back to how we used to be. It wasn’t perfect, but it was much better than what we have now.” Sighing, he withdrew the switchblade from his pocket but didn’t flick it open. He waited a moment to see if Izaya would react, but when he didn’t, he slowly moved towards him, trying to look as non-threatening as possible. If the man was ready to bolt, he wasn’t showing it, and Shizuo couldn’t help but admire him for that. He saw those red eyes curiously gazing at the weapon, and he raised his hand and opened his palm. “Never allow your Shizuo to get his hands on it, because if he’s anything like me, he won’t hesitate to use it.” The silence stretched between them as Izaya kept staring at the switchblade, and Shizuo felt the need to ask him something. “Is he… a lot like me?”

His eyes glued to the switchblade being offered back to him, Izaya could hardly stop himself from roaring with laughter. He raised a hand and hesitantly wrapped his fingers around the knife, retracting it from Shizuo’s palm, and when his skin brushed against the other’s this time, it all felt awkward and almost embarrassing. With the switchblade now in his hands, even if flicked closed, he felt like he was in charge again. His eyes darted up to meet the beast’s and he smiled into that captivating honey brown – a smile so fake and calculating he could hardly convince himself. “He _is_ a lot like you”, _he’s the same kind of trusting idiot, who still hasn’t learned anything about me, after all these years we’ve known each other._ He only spoke those words in his mind, but he felt as if they were carved on his skin, projected on his eyes as Shizuo gazed deep inside them. Somehow, he knew that this other beast would no longer hurt him, so when Shizuo lifted his hand and lightly touched the scar beneath the bloody lips, he didn’t pull away.

“This is a mark of ownership, not a token of love,” he uttered in a sad voice, “but you told me that he’s yours and you’re his, so what do I know?” His attention then shifted lower and he moved his hand until it was resting on the bruised neck. “I burned him with my cigarette here,” he growled and pressed on that spot where he remembered leaving his mark. “It didn’t scar though, and I’m glad that it didn’t…” 

Izaya gritted his teeth in an attempt to control his anger. This man might look like his Shizuo, but he was no one but a stranger and he had no right to make assumptions about his relationship with the beast. The thought of sizzling skin didn’t help much either, especially since it reminded him of Shizuo’s cigarette brought dangerously close to his face, the heat from its burning end reaching his skin and making him shiver in fear of the pain to come. He raised his left hand, very slowly, very cautiously, and brushed a few bleached strands off the monster’s face, his other hand grabbing the switchblade tight. When he spoke up, he made sure his voice was soft and soothing enough for the beast to actually think he was harmless. “Don’t worry” and he cracked a sympathetic smile, “I’m sure you’ve scarred his mind enough!” His switchblade was flicked open and it slashed across the beast’s face before the man had any time to react. Blood gashed from the fresh wound, and as Shizuo roared in pain, bringing his hands up to his face, Izaya kicked him in the groin as hard as he could, just to be on the safe side, and dashed out of the room, running to the door and kicking the TV set off his way. He only grabbed his coat on the way out, leaving his drenched clothes behind and roaring with laughter as he skipped down the stairs and ran into the street.

“IIZAAAYAAAA!!” Shizuo howled as soon as he found his voice, the pain flaring from both his face and the groin area bringing tears to his eyes. “Not Izaya!” he then growled, trying to convince himself that by hurting this other one he wouldn’t break his promise. He could barely think, let alone fight, but that blind rage gave him the strength to walk at first and then run out the door, down the stairs and into the street, his eyes roaming all over the place for any sign of the bastard who sauntered into his apartment, messed him up and then ran away. “I WILL KILL YOU!” he roared again once he caught sight of a shadow going around the corner, his whole body vibrating with fury as he started running after him, his bare feet splashing on the wet pavement. “YOU’RE NOT HIM, SO I CAN KILL YOU! I’LL FUCKING KILL YOU!” he kept shouting into the night, the rain washing away some of the blood gushing out of the cut on his face or soaking his clothes.

Still laughing like a madman, Izaya didn’t stop running, ignoring the burning pain that seized his muscles and his chest. His body had grown too weak and the exertion made his knees quiver, but he charged through the streets, disappeared inside dark alleys and jumped a few fences for good measure; there was no way the blond would follow him all that way barefoot. When there was finally a safe distance between him and the miserable apartment, he leaned against a lamp post panting heavily and craned his head up towards the night sky. “Always a pleasure seeing you, Shizu-chan,” he smiled at the vast darkness above, before making his way back home.

Shizuo kept running for a while, but with this strange flea nowhere in sight, he finally stopped. Hesitantly, he raised a hand to his face, trembling fingers running along the long slash across his cheek. “SHIT!” he bellowed, his fist flying into the nearest street pole, the thing breaking in two and falling to he ground with a loud clack. “IIZAAAYAAAA!!!” he roared again, but his only answer was silence. The sad part about all of it was that he doubted he could kill him even if he caught him. The strange man who’d waltzed into his apartment earlier that night as though he owned the place was still the flea, and as he remembered the broken creature he held in his arms, he felt his anger starting to diminish. Could he blame him for attacking him? Not really. They were meant to destroy each other; it was as simple as that. Resigning himself to his miserable fate, he turned around and started walking back to his own apartment, his teeth chattering and his muscles violently trembling as the cold rain pattered his frozen body. “Good bye,” he uttered softly and canted his head for only a moment before turning his attention back to the road ahead. “I hope we never meet again.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! As always, your feedback is much appreciated. :)
> 
>  _Among The Ruins_ art on [deviantArt](http://pendulumdeath.deviantart.com/art/Among-The-Ruins-469706877) or [tumblr](http://pendulumdeath.tumblr.com/post/92452417607/among-the-ruins).


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